Talk Of The Town | ongoing

1

"Turn to the right, please, look upwards," the annoying photographer instructed. "Please, bring your chin a bit down and hold still."

Her inner cheeks quivered from attempting perfection as expensive camera lenses captured her from another angle for the fiftieth time.

Looking down at the device, clicking a button nonstop, he ranted, "This looks enough for the solo bride."

Anya sighed in relief.

"I'll click some of the guests and food pictures."

"Okay"

"When the groom arrives, I will return."

Anya nodded and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"No, this pose is blurry; I'll have to retake it."

Forcing a smile, she advised, "How about you take it after the other guests and food?"

"Why"

"The venue will fill soon. You may confuse my relatives with guests from the groom's side, and they will leave some questionable reviews online if there are not enough pictures of them."

His face paled at her scattering extended family and friends.

"Oh, uh, I better run, then."

"That would be the wisest idea."

Exhaling hard, Anya sat on the beige couch with golden ornaments set in the middle of the grand stage. She placed her pearl-beaded clutch beside her and held the rose bouquet with both sweaty hands. Her five-inch sparkling rhinestone stilettos have already begun the process of leg pain.

She smiled, admiring the efforts of the event planning business, Mosaic Events.

Her parents, Anwar and Madiha, started this business before her birth. It expanded throughout the years. They now own an office building with more than a hundred employees. At first, they catered to birthdays and engagement parties held at home. Now, they plan fashion shows, galas, lavish weddings, award ceremonies, celebrity parties, corporate events, bridal showers, and even extravagant gender reveal parties.

Due to her parents' hard work, Anya never experienced hardship in her lifestyle.

The elegance and inviting aura of different shades of rose gold pink dispersed throughout the hall. It is not the most expensive wedding décor that the company provides. Anya, however, has always loved it. She would skim through the album of pink stage décor each time she went to her parent's office.

Tall candles, lamps, light pink drapes with a pink floral setting on a rectangular archway set on the stage and vases of flowers on every round table; it's dreamy and almost too perfect to be true.

In spite, her icy stare bored into the back of her father's head as he conversed with the staff. The official wedding ceremony will begin at three thirty p.m. Anwar, however, has ordered the entire family to arrive at the venue one hour earlier as he is familiar with the various excuses countless families have encountered during a wedding ceremony.

Anya pursed her lips. Soft and nostalgic instrumental music, almost muffled by the ongoing chatters, played in the background, and she can't even enjoy the playlist.

Taylor, her father's secretary, joined her on the stage. Her simple purple gown trailed a little behind her.

"Hey, girl, how are you doing?" She asked, going for a hug.